


eyes like april, lips like june

by sunshinejoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, I love Pidge protect her pls, M/M, Mentions of Pidge and Hunk, Pining, That's all I think, They pine like trees, sleepover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13297839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinejoon/pseuds/sunshinejoon
Summary: "It does feel like there's something missing." Keith admits, brushing stray tendrils of dark hair away from his eyes, leaning over to search for a hair tie in the bag he'd brought along to Lance's house. When he straightens back up to look at Lance, who'd suddenly gone silent again, he only finds the tan boy looking at him, sea-blue eyes flickering with something unintelligible."Yeah." Lance's voice is quiet, eyes staying on Keith's until the latter has to look away, neck flushed with a creeping warmth.





	eyes like april, lips like june

"God, I'm beat." the tan boy's arms are stretched over his head with his loud yawn, chocolate-brown hair mussed up from when he'd been running his fingers through it out of habit. 

Keith can only nod in agreement, his own eyes drooping a little as he flops down onto the hard, wooden floor, glancing up to look at Lance before averting his eyes away from the strip of golden-brown skin that'd been exposed when his shirt'd ridden up his stomach.

"Yeah, because somebody thought it'd be a good idea to run laps around the woods in the middle of summer." he grumbles, although his words aren't laced with menace, but slight amusement and exasperation. Lance makes a noise akin to a whine in reply, padding over to his closet, keeping the door open with one leg as he tugs out extra pillows and a spare blanket. 

Keith finds the last bit of energy in him to push himself up from the floor, bare feet dragging across the floor of Lance's bedroom as he goes to grab two pillows for himself.

"It was fun, though!" Lance insists, huffing as he throws the small pile of pillows and blankets onto his bed, before leaning down to extend the pull-out bed, where Keith'd be sleeping that night.

"Even the skunk part?"

"Even the skunk part." Lance confirms, plopping down onto his very-much-bouncable bed, shuffling one of the blankets onto the pull-out bed for Keith. "That little guy was a cutie."

Keith only rolls his eyes in exasperation, not even wanting to argue with Lance's logic of what could be considered cute.   
He shuffles over to the mattress next to Lance, settling down atop of it, arranging the multiple pillows out with languid movements. It's comfortably silent for a moment, Lance only interrupting with a yawn as he grabs his phone to scroll through something momentarily.

"Man, I really wish Hunk and Pidge could've turned up." the tan boy says absentmindedly, sitting cross-legged atop his hand-woven blankets, all endearing gifts from relatives and grandparents. Keith hums in agreement. The four were a group of best friends, and sleepovers were but their monthly routine, all of them agreeing to alternating between their four houses every time it occurred. This time, however, Hunk was halfway around the world, visiting his distant relatives over the summer, whilst Pidge had tech camp -- a whole week of geeking out over computers -- although, Keith couldn't really blame her for wanting to go so badly. Pidge was the biggest nerd between all of them, and although Hunk came in with a close second, she loved technology with a passion like no other.

"It does feel like there's something missing." Keith admits, brushing stray tendrils of dark hair away from his eyes, leaning over to search for a hair tie in the bag he'd brought along to Lance's house. When he straightens back up to look at Lance, who'd suddenly gone silent again, he only finds the tan boy looking at him, sea-blue eyes flickering with something unintelligible.

"Yeah." Lance's voice is quiet, eyes staying on Keith's until the latter has to look away, neck flushed with a creeping warmth.He busies himself with tying his hair up. The rest of the house is quiet, most of Lance's siblings having gone to sleep about an hour ago, the two being the only ones allowed to stay up to watch a movie. 

There's a sound of shuffling sheets, before a soft thump indicates Lance's presence on Keith's pull-out bed. The tan boy sits with his back pressed to the side of his bed, knees pulled to his chest, lips parting in a silent yawn. He seems almost hesitant to speak up, Keith scooting to sit next to him, a small space separating their warm bodies.

"Do you -- Do you like pidge?"

Keith almost chokes on air, looking at Lance with a bewildered expression, the other boy's gaze blatantly landing on everything but Keith's eyes.

"What?"

"I -- I'm just asking." Lance shrugs, a movement to make him seem nonchalant, although his tripping heartbeat proves otherwise. He really, really hopes Keith can't hear it, but at this rate, he wouldn't be surprised if he could.

The two are best friends -- and have been since they were five and met on the swing sets outside of the preschool they'd went to -- but they never really found a habit of discussing things like crushes, or the like -- it was but uncharted territory for both of them.

"Of course I do." Keith says after a beat of silence, voice rough but quiet, in the Keith way. "She's my friend."

"But romantically?" Lance presses, eyes finally meeting Keith's, light blue and clouded with a shroud of hope but soaked in doubt. 

"I -- No! Why would you even think that?!" Keith splutters, cheeks flaring with an undying rosiness, eyebrows knitted into a subconscious frown. "I don't like her that way." his voice quietens into a mumble. "I don't think I could, really."

"Oh." Lance's voice is a little croaky, dropping to a muted mumble. "That's good."

Keith turns to look at him again, wondering if he'd heard that correctly, a hand curling around his own neck as if to rub away the warmth flushed across his skin.

The soft fabric of his sweatpants provides a lingering warmth, as he shifts atop the mattress, legs halfway-buried under the blankets. He fiddles with his fingers in his lap, breaths audible in the quiet of the room.

Lance's head lifts a little to look at him, brown hair falling into his eyes -- Keith can see the faint freckles dotted across his nose, and he suddenly realizes how close they're sitting. The warmth of the boy's eyes, although laced with drowsiness, flickers over his face, lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

His cheeks flush even more with his words, but he says them anyway, a small whisper in the space between them.

"I'm glad you said no."

Keith's heart feels too big for his chest, threatening to force it's way up his throat and spew out over the flower-pattered mattress they're both sitting on -- knees now close enough to touch, sheets wrinkled beneath them.

He thinks back now that he'd expected it subconsciously, but was nothing like he'd imagined it to be. (Not that he'd allowed himself to think about his stupidly-big crush on Lance that much, but it'd crossed his mind in fleeting moments before.) It's so much -- so much more. 

Lance's breath is warm on his face, there for a moment and then gone again, as if not daring to do anything more. 

Then they're kissing.

His lips are soft. He'd expected that, from the amount of moisturizers and lip balms he owned, but they're tender and gentle and Keith feels like he's about to explode. Self-combust and leave his bloody remains all over Lance's clean and well-kept bedroom.

He doesn't, thankfully.

When Lance draws back, his face seems even redder than before, blue eyes hooded, long lashes flickering over his raised cheekbones. It comes immediately -- Keith wants more. He wants Lance to do that again -- kiss him with those incredibly soft lips and look at him with eyes that make his heart struggle under his ribcage.

So he surges forward -- he doesn't think he can do anything but. Their lips crash together messily, and Lance yelps, the sound quickly dissolving into a breathless chuckle, Keith's cheeks reddening beneath his raven-black hair.

"Sorry." his voice comes out cracked, drawing back a little, blunt teeth biting down on his bottom lip. Lance's eyebrows crinkle with his fond, small smile, hesitating a little before reaching out to curl a hand around his right cheek, fingertips tracing the sharp outline of his jaw.

He lets himself get pulled in, Lance's lips feeling impossibly softer than before, warm and overwhelming and more than Keith could ever ask for.

He has no idea what's he doing.

He doesn't know how to kiss, for one. He's never done this with anyone -- ever. He's never liked anyone this much, never fallen in love with his best friend. It'd never been like this -- but here he is, sitting on Lance's bedroom floor, kissing the corners of his curling lips like it's his only chance to ever do so.

Lance is his first -- everything.

When they draw away for breath, Lance's lips are a few shades rosier than before, wet and parted slightly, sea-blue eyes dazed. Keith is pretty sure he feels the same. He realizes now that he's forgotten to breathe this whole time, and so his does, breaths shaky and warm.

"I don't know what I would've done if you said yes." Lance says quietly, words laced with hesitant honesty, a corner of his lips uplifting softly.

Keith starts to laugh. He doesn't know why he is, but it bubbles out of his chest like warm water, voice cracking.

"I can't believe you actually thought I liked Pidge."

Lance lands a halfhearted smack to his shoulder, groaning as he buries his face into a pillow.

"I don't know! What was I supposed to think?"

Keith hides a snicker in his chest, shaking his head in exasperation.

"God, you can be such an idiot sometimes." he mumbles, voice dropping a little as he tilts his head up again to plant a kiss to the corner of Lance's mouth, face blooming with a visible blush. His laugh dies down, Lance's lanky arms wrapping around the width of his waist, tugging him in softly to kiss his stupid smile away.

Lance's expression is fond when they pull away again, fingers now shyly entangled between their warm torsos.

"When did you --" he clears his throat. "When did you start liking me?"

Keith, himself, isn't sure. It almost seems as if he's always just been this way -- getting butterflies in his stomach every time Lance laughs, every time they touch and every time he does something remotely cute. He's just -- always liked Lance. Whether it be simply platonic or anything more -- it's an overwhelming, blooming feeling in his chest. Keith never wants to stop feeling it.

"I don't know." he admits, head leaning against the side of the bed, yawning quietly. "Since fifth grade, I think."

Lance looks surprised, seafoam eyes widening slightly.

"Woah."

"Yeah." Keith mumbles, eyelids starting to droop again. He forces them open, gaze settling on the comfortable sight of Lance's face.

"I think I was a little later than that." Lance's voice is soft, thumb running across the expanse of Keith's knuckles. "In seventh, maybe."

Keith doesn't answer -- doesn't feel the need to, because Lance's eyes are soft and his insides feel like mush and he doesn't think he can.

Lance yawns again, and then they're both yawning and Lance's chuckling at Keith's sleepiness. It's oddly endearing. Lance wants to kiss him again.

"Guess it's time to sleep, then." he says quietly, gently pulling Keith closer by the arm, eyelashes fluttering as their lips meet for the third time that night. He opens his eyes before Keith does -- the dark-haired boy frowns when he kisses, he finds out.

Lance is going to explode.

"Wanna ditch the matress?" he asks, a little hesitantly, Keith's dark-violet eyes soft, rough but gentle fingertips brushing across his face.

"Can we?"

"Yeah." Lance replies immediately, cheeks threatening to pinken again. "It'll be okay."

There's a ghost of a smile on Keith's face as they proceed to drag the remaining of the pillows and blankets onto Lance's bed, leaving the pull-out bed and clambering onto Lance's slightly bigger one. Keith is warm, everywhere, and he's suddenly so, so tired.

Lance pats the space next to him, the other boy shuffling in next to him, dark hair mussed up already. Their legs are hesitant but quick in tangling together, Lance leaning over to turn the lights off, Keith nestling into his side.

The tan boy's skin is warm, and the fabric of his t-shirt is soft under his fingertips.

Neither one is sure when exactly they fell asleep that night -- only that it was much like how they'd fallen for the other. Like a sunset, like a warm exhale.

Slowly, unknowingly, and then all at once.


End file.
